Month: March 2015

Progressivism, Rogue AI, and the Heat Death of Humanity

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Click the image to see Randall Munroe's explanation of why the robot revolution is unlikely to succeed.
Click the image to see Randall Munroe’s explanation of why the robot revolution is unlikely to succeed.

This is one of those blog posts that, once you’ve read it, makes you wonder how there was ever a possible universe in which you didn’t know the concepts that you just learned: The Heat Death of Humanity: Progressivism as the Second Law of Thermodynamics. The first major new concept has a humble name: paperclipper. According to the Less Wrong Wiki, the paperclipper is “the canonical thought experiment showing how an artificial general intelligence, even one designed competently and without malice, could ultimately destroy humanity.” Imagine, as the original 2003 paper did, an AI given the task of maximizing the number of paperclips it has in its collection. Seems harmless enough at first glance. However:

If it has been constructed with a roughly human level of general intelligence, the AGI [artificial general intelligence] might collect paperclips, earn money to buy paperclips, or begin to manufacture paperclips. Most importantly, however, it would undergo an intelligence explosion: It would work to improve its own intelligence, where “intelligence” is understood in the sense of optimization power, the ability to maximize a reward/utility function—in this case, the number of paperclips. The AGI would improve its intelligence, not because it values more intelligence in its own right, but because more intelligence would help it achieve its goal of accumulating paperclips. Having increased its intelligence, it would produce more paperclips, and also use its enhanced abilities to further self-improve. Continuing this process, it would undergo an intelligence explosion and reach far-above-human levels. It would innovate better and better techniques to maximize the number of paperclips. At some point, it might convert most of the matter in the solar system into paperclips.

Or, in the words of Eliezer Yudkowsky, “The AI does not hate you, nor does it love you, but you are made out of atoms which it can use for something else.” In this case: paperclips.

Keep that example in mind for a moment, and think about recent critiques of the social justice movement: Chait’s, Ronson’s, or (what the heck), mine. The common thread is that there is no limiting principle to halt the downward spiral of ever increasing levels of outrage over ever smaller indignities. This doesn’t mean that the individual progressive causes are wrong. The problem is that–just as with the paperclipper–a benign (or even good!) goal has been mistaken for the only goal. Justice is the paperclip.

Well, obviously justice is a lot more intrinsically valuable than a paperclip (or any number of paperclips), but the fact remains that it isn’t the only goal. And justice at the expense of truth, or at the expense of mercy and forgiveness, or at the expense of any number of other possible virtues can become just as dangerous as the paperclipper.

There’s more to the story, however. The primary source of energy for the social justice movement is outrage, and the outrage is derived from examples of injustice. The more injustice the movement sees, the more energy it has available. To use a biological metaphor: here you have a bunch of leaf-eating herbivores and along comes an herbivore that can eat entire trees (bark, branches, and even trunks). The new organism is going to out-compete and eventually replace all others. But, in our case, the same feature that makes social justice ideology so perfectly adapted to our memetic ecosystem is also fueling a kind of second law of thermodynamics for social systems.

It seems that perhaps progressivism is the embodiment in human systems of the second law of thermodynamics, which can be roughly stated as “the tendency of natural processes to lead towards spatial homogeneity of matter and energy, and especially of temperature.”

The individual differences that social justice seeks to ameliorate may be, case-by-case, well worth the effort of amelioration. Or even eradication. But without a limiting principle, the risk is that all differences will be eradicated. And that’s bad because”

…If you even care about life existing – let alone the infinite diversity possible therein – then (contra Caplan), boundaries (such as national borders) are an absolute necessity. No differences, no energy flow, no (thermodynamic) work, no life. As in the stars, so on the earth: romance flows from polarity; trade from comparative advantage; thermodynamic work from heat differences;evolution from variation; economic competition from competing alternatives. All progress is driven by differences; so to erase differences is (counter-eponymously) to end progress.

A lot of this is argument-from-metaphor, of course, which is always perilous. But I certainly think there is some validity to this approach.

Hobbits, Kings, and Legitimate Government

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The Scouring of the Shire
The Scouring of the Shire

I came across an interesting post not long ago on the topic of legitimate government using hobbits as the primary example. I found the post intriguing and especially these two ideas:

Where to the old Christian view, rights followed from duties in the same man, to our post-Christian view the arbitrary rights of one man translate to duties for unaccounted others. (My right to a free lunch translates to your duty to pay for it, &c.) In this sense, all modern political thinking is in its nature totalitarian.

The connection between rights and responsibility is a deep and important one, so I have to confess my first impression was simply, “I like it when people say things that I agree with,” but the kicker at the end about totalitarianism is, at least theoretically, genuinely interesting. When we move from a view of government as primarily guarantor of negative to provider of positive rights, it’s all downhill from there. Then came something a little different:

Similarly, a mediaeval king has the task of defending custom. It isn’t his “right” to change anything, but instead his duty to pass on the kingdom to his successor, unmolested. He is the symbol of unity, of social solidarity, of moral order, of motherhood and apple pie and everything that is “above politics.” When he exceeds his authority, he must be deposed. That is precisely why so much mediaeval political thinking was devoted to explicating the duty of rebellion. It can never be taken lightly, never be required except in the gravest circumstances. It is never a right; it can only be a duty. It is a duty not to overturn, but instead to restore a legitimate order, pleasing to God, that has itself been overturned.

What’s this, a red-blooded conservative American talking seriously about the duties and obligations of kings, as though monarchy wasn’t intrinsically and categorically inferior to democracy? Well, maybe democracy is a little overhyped at times, but there’s something more. As we’ve covered at DR fairly recently, meritocracies can be hereditary. In fact, the more egalitarian a meritocracy society becomes, the more it will tend to generate an entrenched aristocracy. The reason for this is that there are basically two components for human IQ (and other traits related to success in a meritocracy): genes and environment. A truly egalitarian society would give all kids the same (or at least very similar) environments. Thus, the remaining variation would be primarily genetic. Add in a little assortative mating (smart people marrying smart people) and presto: you’re perfect egalitarian meritocracy has an entrenched aristocracy.

This an oversimplification that makes a valid point: maybe some of the lessons of past political philosophies, institutions, and traditions might be more relevant to our modern society than we would like to admit. Instead of denying the undercurrent of hereditary privilege, we may want to acknowledge it and borrow from our past to find creative new approaches to mitigate its dark side.

 

2015 Faith & Knowledge Conference: “Labour…Is Their Religion”

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I recently presented at the 2015 Faith & Knowledge Conference at the University of Virginia. As the website explains, “The Faith and Knowledge Conference was established in 2007 to bring together LDS graduate students in religious studies and related disciplines in order to explore the interactions between religious faith and scholarship. During the past four conferences, students have shared their experiences in the church and the academy and the new ideas that have emerged as a result. Papers and conversations provided thought-provoking historical, exegetical, and theoretical insights and compelling models of how to reconcile one’s discipleship with scholarly discipline.” The conference is typically for those in religious studies and “related disciplines (e.g., women’s studies, philosophy, anthropology, sociology, history, literature, etc.),” so I was grateful to be a part of it as the lone MBA student. My presentation was titled “‘Labour…Is Their Religion’: Toward a Mormon Theology of Work.” The abstract is below:

Despite the Platonic ideal, ordinary people do not spend the majority of their time in the act of deep contemplation. Instead, they are performing the seemingly menial tasks of daily life. This largely consists of one’s form of employment. Finding meaning in the lone and dreary world of day-to-day work has been a point of increasing interest among management experts and organizational theorists. Their findings yield fruitful insights, especially given that one of Mormonism’s earliest forms of consecration was a business organization known as the United Firm. The “inspired fictionalization” of the United Firm revelations is an early example of Joseph Smith’s cosmological monism, transforming a business entity into the ancient “order of Enoch.” This sacralization of the mundane was further elaborated by Brigham Young and recognized by non-Mormons as an oddity of the Utahns. The metaphysical overlap of the temporal and spiritual realms can influence the way modern Mormons conduct their business, inspire “Zion-building” within organizations, and pave the way for a Mormon theology of work and eternal progression.

Check it out.

 

 

NYT: Writing Your Way to Happiness

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There was a fascinating article in The New York Times in January that I just came across that discusses the personal power of writing:

The scientific research on the benefits of so-called expressive writing is surprisingly vast. Studies have shown that writing about oneself and personal experiences can improve mood disorders, help reduce symptoms among cancer patients, improve a person’s health after a heart attack, reduce doctor visits and even boost memory.

Now researchers are studying whether the power of writing — and then rewriting — your personal story can lead to behavioral changes and improve happiness.

The concept is based on the idea that we all have a personal narrative that shapes our view of the world and ourselves. But sometimes our inner voice doesn’t get it completely right. Some researchers believe that by writing and then editing our own stories, we can change our perceptions of ourselves and identify obstacles that stand in the way of better health.

It may sound like self-help nonsense, but research suggests the effects are real.

This reminds me of the research on fiction reading. There are a few examples of this kind of writing here at Difficult Run. Perhaps I should engage in this style of writing more for the sake of my health.

RIP, Sir Terry Pratchett

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The first book I ever read by Terry Pratchett was Small Gods. I had never laughed so hard reading any book and–with the exception of a couple of other books also by Terry Pratchett–I never have since. Although he is most famous for Good Omens (written with Neil Gaiman), it was his Discworld novels (including Small Gods) that captivated me. I think that I probably read more books by Terry Pratchett than any other author in high school and–since I’ve read most of the 40+ Discworld novels–I’ve probably read more Terry Pratchett than any other author period.

Pratchett was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in 2007, and he was unusually public about his battle with the disease. He used his last years to not only continue writing, but also to raise awareness about Alzheimer’s. He passed away today, and his death was announced on Twitter. In order to understand the tweets, however, you have to first understand that Death was a recurring character in the Discword novels, and even the star of one of my very favorite books: Reaper Man. In the novels, all of Death’s dialogue was written in capital letters. Keep that in mind when you read the first tweet.

954 - Terry Pratchett Last Tweets

You can read more details from coverage at the BBC.

As for me? I think it is time–after nearly 20 years–to re-read some of my childhood favorites.

America’s Most Profound Comic Strip

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Calvin and Hobbes were fans of print journalism—or at least the comics.

In 1985, American newspaper readers met an appalling little boy. He taunted his mother (“Prepare for annihilation, pitiful Earth female”), tormented a classmate by telling her he had brought a “thermos full of phlegm” for lunch and kept a sign on his bedroom door that read “Enter and die.” Millions fell in love with him.

Running in hundreds of papers for the following decade, Bill Watterson ’s “Calvin and Hobbes” was not only the strangest American comic strip. It was also the funniest, the most touching and the most profound.

So begins a fantastic article on Calvin & Hobbes in The Wall Street Journal yesterday. The title captures my sentiments exactly: “‘Calvin & Hobbes’: America’s Most Profound Comic Strip.”

Check it out.

Marriage: Safe Haven in Unsafe Neighborhoods

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Research has found that children in two-parent families are less likely to be victims of a crime compared to those in single parent households, but it has been ambiguous as to whether this is due to marriage or the neighborhoods in which married families choose to live. A recent analysis on the 2011-2012 National Survey of Children’s Health, however, “shows that even when their families live in unsafe neighborhoods, children in married two-parent families are less likely to be exposed to violent crime than children of never-married and divorced parents.” Family scholar Nicholas Zill explains,

When I looked at combinations of neighborhood safety and family type in which children lived, those living with never-married mothers in unsafe or unsupportive neighborhoods unsurprisingly had the highest rate of encountering neighborhood violence: 165 children per 1,000. This was five times the rate of violence exposure for children living with both married parents in safe and supportive neighborhoods: 32 children per 1,000. Children living with separated or divorced mothers in unsafe neighborhoods were not far behind their peers with never-married mothers: 153 children per 1,000. While children in intact families who resided in unsafe neighborhoods had a higher risk of encountering violence than similar children in safe neighborhoods, their rate of exposure was lower than that of children of never-married or divorced mothers who lived in safe and supportive neighborhoods.

Zill offers three possible explanations for his findings:

First is the stress of conflict between parents and the strain of raising children as a lone parent in reduced financial circumstances. These can lead to a lack of vigilance and the overlooking of simple precautions, such as making sure that doors and windows are locked in houses and vehicles. Second, if they have broken up with their child’s other parent, a single parent will usually begin dating and trying to find a new partner. This process often involves being out of the house at night, sometimes leaving children with no or inadequate supervision. Third, as children become adolescents, the peers they become involved with in their less-than-ideal neighborhoods and schools are often troubled ones, who can lead them into hazardous situations and activities.

For me, this is just more evidence as to why those who are concerned about social justice should be the biggest advocates of marriage.

Occupational Licensing: Enriching the (Relatively) Few

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A new study from the Mercatus Center at George Mason University explores the growth of optician licensing in the U.S. Though licensing is often advocated for in the name of “public safety,” this study finds that strict licensing laws reduce competition and enrich opticians with no measurable benefits for consumers (such as vision insurance or optician malpractice insurance premiums). A new NBER study found similar results, concluding that those with occupational licenses in the labor market “earn higher pay, are more likely to be employed, and have a higher probability of retirement and pension plan offers.” Writing in The New York Times, the University of Minnesota’s Morris Kleiner explains,

In the 1970s, about 10 percent of individuals who worked had to have licenses, but by 2008, almost 30 percent of the work force needed them. With this explosion of licensing laws has come a national patchwork of stealth regulation that has, among other things, restricted labor markets, innovation and worker mobility…Occupational licensure has a large and growing impact on labor markets and consumers, but has yet to draw significant public attention or scrutiny. The left and right seem to be in agreement that policy makers need to revisit the process for creating licensure regulations and consider amending or rolling back existing laws in favor of lesser forms of regulations such as certification. Ultimately, we all would benefit from wiser, not more, occupational licensing.

Worth thinking about.

Leonard Nimoy

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I’m pretty sure that most everyone knows that “live long and prosper” is based on the Jewish priestly blessing. What seems less appreciated is just how fundamental Yiddish culture was to Leonard Nimoy’s identity as a person and as an actor. In 2013, Nimoy was interviewed for the Yiddish Book Center’s Wexler Oral History Project. It is a fascinating interview, even if you only watch the highlights version. Nimoy discusses his family, his life, and his love for a vanishing culture. Oh, and Hamlet’s soliloquy in Yiddish.